


Burdens

by 2peach22



Series: Possibility [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Team STRQ - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2peach22/pseuds/2peach22
Summary: Qrow's a bad luck charm, and if he had his way, he'd be able to control that. Raven thinks he's giving up too easily.





	1. i

There are several reasons why Qrow doesn't sleep through Ozpin's class: the material always proves applicable and demonstrable, the engagement level in the entire room remains high, and failure to volunteer prompted random assignment. Given all that, today shouldn't really have been any different, but Summer's had to nudge him several times. He manages a sweet period of half an hour without dozing, and during that half hour he passes her the occasional grin, meaningful glance, dramatic hand pressed against his chest as the students of Beacon try to rip each other to shreds at the lecture hall's cavernous center.

At the front of the room, the white haired man taps away at a scroll, glasses faintly reflecting light. Patiently, some broad-shouldered, super composed kid that Qrow doesn't care to remember the name of stands rod-straight at attention, hands behind his back. "Raven Branwen," the man calls eventually, and as Broad Shoulders hears that, he flinches as though struck, eyes wide.

With a flick of her wrist that sends long black locks temporarily flying, she stands, and Summer and Qrow _lose it,_ giggling and cheering while Taiyang sinks further in his chair to Qrow's left.

"Yeahhhh, Raven!" Summer's fist parades into the air.

"Go kick his ass, sis!" calls Qrow, hands in knots in his lap. He elbows Tai with a cheeky grin, who responds by literally hitting him. The blow lands on Qrow's shoulder - "Hey!" - and the man at the front of the room folds his arms, look severe.

"While I must admit that I do not care what sort of language you use on the playground, Mister Branwen, I would prefer that you avoided taunting others in my classroom. This is a learning environment for all." He gestures to the rows upon rows of students nestled in the world's most uncomfortably small seats, more akin to bleachers than anything else. As a few kids snicker, red eyes roll, and Tai's palm comes down to mess up his hair. He returns the blonde's hit - "Ow." - and slides down in his seat. They've switched places now, Tai sitting up, and Qrow trying to disappear.

"Now," continues Ozpin as both students take a stance, the girl's more of a predatory crouch than anything, both hands on the hilt of her odachi, ready to draw. Looks like the other has a mace, which would be ideal if Raven's sword weren't so damn long when drawn. Qrow finds his eyes fluttering, abruptly disinterested; he already knows how this is going to go. Satisfyingly, there's a loud clink as Raven's impressively long blade is drawn, taller than her and reached forward like a deadly claw.

The last thing Qrow hears is a stern but encouraging word: "Begin."

He's out like a light.

... And then someone's shaking him as though the world has reached an end. "Qrow, get up. Qrow, it's your turn!"

"N...ope," he mumbles sluggishly, harsh light against his pupils as he slowly blinks himself back into consciousness. "Did we win...?" The important part.

"No, Qrow." No? "Come on. It's you and Taiyang, okay?" He zeroes in on her lip, nervous and bitten, and then his eyes flicker down several rows to see someone endlessly patient and someone ready to rip his head off both turned to face him, waiting.

Qrow's eyes glance to the empty seat beside the short haired girl. Empty? "Where's Raven?"

"She left." That makes him raise a brow. "Come on, go! You're kind of holding up the entire class!"

"Whenever you are ready to join us, Mister Branwen," Ozpin prompts gently, and Qrow's about to ditch to find Raven before he thinks better of that. Wherever she went, there's no way she got too far, and there's no way he won't find her right after this.

"Right," he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets as he slinks down the stairs to join his teammate and teacher. There's a snicker or two in the crowd, but he drowns those out easily enough. 

More importantly, there's a group of cute girls in the corner that's definitely eyeing him up, so as Taiyang makes his way to the opposite side of the ring, he turns his head to shoot a grin and a wink before turning his head, running a slow, deliberate hand through dark, silky hair that makes one of them bury her face into her friend's shoulder, deeply sighing.

"Can you _please_ focus for two seconds?" His partner snaps, already in stance, fists curled. "We got creamed last round."

"So?" he replies nonchalantly, hand at the ready.

"So keep your head in the game. For _once._ "

A shrug. "I don't need you to chastise me, Tai."

"Well, clearly SOMEONE needs to--"

"Gentlemen, please," interrupts the headmaster, tone even. "You are causing a scene. Which would be perfectly fine, were it the correct scene." The brawler's fists curl impossibly tighter for a short moment, and Qrow's hand hesitates at his weapon's hilt. "Please, Mister Branwen, this has gone on more than long enough. Draw your weapon."

"Not yet." In calculation, his eyes narrow. Tai... what the hell is his problem today? Not that he doesn't always have a problem, but this feels off.

"Then I am going to begin the match regardless," he cautions, though the slight smile on his face tells him that he's more intrigued by whatever the boy may be thinking than upset. When Qrow remains still, gaze back on the blonde before him, the smile drops. "Alright then. Begin."

The raven-haired kid shrugs his shoulders, lowering his hand entirely, jaw set. As expected, Tai charges forward first, and Qrow knows exactly where his right hook's headed: his face.

His spine's either a work of the gods or a trick of the devil; he manages to bend backwards far enough that he watches a sure, calculated fist soar right over his scrunched nose. As he lets himself drop to the floor, mind boiling behind red eyes, he rolls backwards and stands firmly, dusting off his shoulders with a smile.

"What's wrong, Tai?" Comfortingly, the weight of his sword rests on his back, and he knows that after this, he'll probably need it. "Worried about what other people think all of a sudden? And here I thought you believed in us." 

For a moment, he lets his attention lapse to his favorite face in the entire audience, but her shoulders are sluggish and there's fear in those silver eyes. His brows crumble up, forehead wrinkled, because he doesn't understand. What the hell is there to be afraid of?

This time, his right hook connects, and then his left, and then a foot to his chest that knocks him straight to the floor, scrambling to gain his bearings. "I do," he says hesitantly as Qrow stands, "but ever since Summer unlocked your aura, we've been _losing!_ And it all leads back to you, Qrow. What am I supposed to think? How do I know it isn't--"

"Isn't _what?_ "

"On purpose!"

Qrow's heart stills.

Another fist flies, this time toward his nose, and Qrow's so shocked that he just takes it. That Taiyang of all people would say that hurts more than he has time to comprehend. Until his aura's nearly at the breaking point, Qrow let's Tai smack him back toward the arena's edge as the crowd murmurs incoherently. 

Summer watches the moment that Qrow's aura hits red with disbelief, and that's when she snaps. "Stop it!" she yells, standing up from her seat, about to march down there to stop them herself.

"Yes," Ozpin interjects as impartially as possible, fixing his glasses as he looks the two over. "I believe that's enough. I expect to see both of you in my office after--"

Nope.

Qrow's already run out of the room, and no one stops him.

What he wants the most is to find Raven, and luckily he finds her right back in the dorm, perched by the window that overlooks Beacon's vast courtyard. Her eyes seem transfixed on something. When Qrow lets the door creak shut and waltzes over to follow her gaze, he finds a small white dove perched on a hooded statue, unmoving.

"It's cute," he suggests gently, voice low. When she doesn't reply, he decides to be the one that does the talking. "Heard you walked out. What was that all about?"

"You know exactly what it was about." Never in his life has he heard so much ice in his sister's voice, and when she finally turns to face him, her eyes are ablaze.

"Except I don't." He cools down to match, hands curled at his sides. "I was asleep, Raven. I don't know anything."

"I tripped," she snarls. "I tripped, my odachi went flying, and that idiot's mace came _right down_ on my head. My aura was crushed instantly, Qrow."

"So what?" At this point, he's glowering. This doesn't make any sense.

"Listen, alright? I didn't come to Beacon just to _fail_ because _you_ aren't disciplined enough to control your own semblance, Qrow. And if you aren't willing to learn, you're gonna hold all of us back."

He gnashes his teeth, lashes out with a heavy chest. "If it were possible to learn, I would."

"And how do you know it isn't?" Her fingers grasp at his shirt collar as she pulls him closer to her level, and he stumbles unwillingly forward. "How do you know when you haven't even made an effort?"

"Because the likelihood that this isn't a passive semblance is way too low, Raven! You heard what Ozpin said!" Yelling isn't exactly something that he's fond of, but here he is, voice raised as his hands push his bitter sister the hell off of him.

"Are you really going to just _give up?_ " A flinch. "This isn't like you, and I think you know that." He's silent, and she grabs for his chin. "What, not gonna look at me?"

" _Don't touch me._ " After he smacks her hand right off, she clutches at her wrist, gaze flickering away as she takes a step back, backing down. "There's nothing I can do, Raven."

"I think there is." Those words come with firmness, unyielding. Air stifling and energy harsh, the room holds nothing but a big, huge headache for the girl. She shoves her hands into her uniform skirt's pockets as she heads for the door, all desire to even so much as glance at him evaporated. "And if you're willing to get your head out of your ass, you'll meet me at the cliffs tonight." The door opens.

Creak.

Slam.

Qrow's all alone. For awhile, he stares out of the window, heart heavy and empty. The glass shines, sun bright and sky a perfect blue overhead, clouds speckling the sky. To him, the image feels surreal, more like a painting than reality.

He doesn't remember willing himself to do it, but the glass shatters. His knuckles are bloodied, mess all around him as he hugs his knees and limply leans into the bed at his side.

"Okay, Raven," he murmurs, eyes closed. "I'll play your game."


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow's ready to face his demons, but doesn't expect to confront his sister's along the way.

"You were too hard on him. You know that, right?"

Summer's knees are curled against her chest, covered head to toe with her soft, dark comforter. Underneath this blanket there's no way to tell the time, but since there's no way in hell they'll ever sleep at this rate time proves irrelevant.

Faintly, she hears him grunt, then sigh, then the ruffle of papers against his hardwood desk. "I do know that." Earlier, he taped cardboard over the broken window, cleaned the glass and tried not to get too upset about this. As far as he's concerned, they'd have a window if he hadn't sent his team mate off the deep end. And it's not that he doesn't want to apologize, but there's no point in beating himself up over what's already been done.

"Then why would you say any of it in the first place?" When her words hit empty air, she speaks to the visions behind her eyes instead, visions of Qrow allowing himself to be hit over, and over, and over... "I couldn't find him, Tai. Not him... not Raven..."

"So what if we called someone? Isn't that, I don't know, safe? They could be anywhere, Summer." His knuckles meekly collide with something--wood? The wall?

Now she's the one that holds back her words, but after a few beats of silence she manages, barely heard beneath the covers. "What if that just makes it worse?"

He doesn't respond. And she doesn't have anything else to say.

They never manage sleep.

___

 

Funny that she would be late when she's the one that made arrangements in the first place. Then again, she's not the most reliable person, never has been. Funny, but not unexpected. Not anything he wouldn't see coming.

Honestly? He wouldn't mind if she never even showed up. Here he is at the sharp cliffs that overlook the Emerald Forest, alone, grass soft beneath his palms. The view's damned beautiful, all lush leaves and soft moonlight, and he can only imagine how pretty that all looks when at the heart, lost in tall grass and endless trees and vines that tangle and choke. If Raven never shows, he gets to gaze upon all of this, just him and his thoughts, and that's fine. Maybe then, he could even entertain the thought of forgetting everything that happened earlier today.

Unconsciously, rough fingers grip and tug at the green strands he lies on, and the harmless carnage piles up beneath his hands. That's the way she finds him, on his back, plucking away like it'll soothe his sorry thoughts. For awhile she doesn't interrupt, wonders how long he'll carry on if he thinks he's not being watched. But when at last he opens his mouth, Raven's aware that he knew her presence the moment she arrived.

"Gonna stand there forever?" Handfuls of grass silently fall and fly away, caught in the cool evening breeze. "Trust me, this isn't all that interesting."

"You're right. It's not." As she strolls closer her boots crunch the earth. Her hand reaches out to Qrow to help him up, and for a moment her smile's genuine enough that he grasps for her.

But he falters, and ultimately his own weight gets him off the ground. Qrow dusts himself off, then offers her a wry grin. "Come on, sis. We both know you're not exactly here to play nice."

"Not quite," she agrees as her smile fades into something slightly hardened. "But I am here to help you. Remember that. I'm on your side, Qrow. That isn't changing any time soon."

"If you say so." Already, his eyes are elsewhere, specifically several feet away at a long, even row of square metal platforms. "Now, are we doing what I think we're doing, or did you bring me here just to chat?"

A pause. "I'm curious. What do you think we're doing?"

His palm gestures toward the object of his stare. "That."

"And why do you think we're doing that?" When the breeze catches her long, dark hair, he can see why most find her intimidating. Everything about her creates sharp contrast, all black and red and white. Her hands find her hips, and as he stares into deep red, he wonders if this is what others see when faced with him. "Well?" Impatience colors her tone, and he wonders if _that's_ in him, too. Probably is.

"That's what I don't get. No matter how I spin it, I can't figure out why you want to do this here." His brows furrow as he lazily slouches, makes his way to the platforms at a relaxed pace. 

Slow fingers fish his scroll from deep pockets as he slumps back to the ground beside the first in a row of at least twenty inactive launch pads. Not for long though, because Qrow's got access to instructor sign-in codes. He's hoarded them away for months, waiting for something important enough to risk them for. This is it.

(Summer never liked that he had them, but she wasn't supposed to know. Raven wasn't, either, but after he told Taiyang the whole team was bound to hear about it, and for good reason. Everywhere he shouldn't be, everything he shouldn't hear... that's the kind of thing he's into. Insider knowledge never hurt anyone unless utilized for unfair gain, and to Qrow, there's not a damn thing that's unfair about trying to shake his shitty luck.

Still, he wouldn't really have been offended if they turned him in to Glynda. But they didn't. Instead, they made him promise to erase the passcodes.

But he didn't. And Raven knew it.)

"We're here because we need the worst case scenario, and if you ask me, this is the best place to find that." Steady boots clunk against metal; she chooses the center launch pad on a whim, knees slightly bent at the ready. "You trust me, right?" Out of the corner of her sight, she sees her brother still tapping away, mind elsewhere.

"Nope," he chuckles, warm smile tilting his lips. "Not really."

"Good." And she laughs, eyes back on the sprawling forest in the distance. "That means you're smarter than you look. But just this once, I need you to try."

"That's a pretty tall order, don't you think?" His head turns, launcher program up and running on his scroll. All he needs to do now is press the button that'll send his sister flying, index finger hesitant only because he wants to hear what she has to say.

"What, that hard to trust your own blood?" Another laugh and she's turned her head to face him again. He's tense and she's exhausted. He's got bags beneath his eyes that tell her he hasn't managed to sleep for nights on end, and she's got far too many scratches and bruises in places he'll never see from doing things too dangerous to repeat.

"Hate to make the joke, sis." Smile worn, empty, he realizes in the back of his head that he doesn't actually want to be here. Not alone with her, no matter how much he cares. "But we're birds of a feather. And since that's true, there's no way in hell I can ever completely relax unless you prove there's a reason."

All she responds with is, "Sure. Got it." And his head aches, ears briefly ringing from the stress of it all.

"If you've got it, then tell me what we're really trying to do here."

"Control it, Qrow. That's all we're trying to do. Nothing more, nothing less." 

As everything falls silent, the boy takes a long, hard look at the way her face looks in this light. Suddenly she's as far from intimidating as possible, face too soft, too pale, eyes too dim. He misses playing with her, misses hide and seek and fights with tree branches and wooden swords, misses the way her smile would touch her eyes when they'd sleep beneath the stars. She used to be so much fun. _They_ used to be so much fun. What the hell happened to that?

"... Are you logged in or what?" she urges, tone annoyed. "Launch me, use a different pad, then come find me. And be _ready._ Okay?"

"Yeah," he sighs heavily, soaks in the weight of the sword on his back. Oobleck's account is all logged in and ready to launch, so he taps the button on-screen. Sequentially the pads launch from left to right, air hissing as metal flings.

Thrown skyward, Raven soars, flips, and approaches her landing headfirst. Warily, because the girl's pretty often a showoff, Qrow watches her trajectory. Nothing seems out of place, and knowing her, she'll land on her feet with due grace.

Problem is, he thought she had things handled _last_ time, too, and this situation's far riskier than some controlled, monitored classroom duel. If anything goes wrong, they're on their own.

He scowls at the distant treeline, taking to the launch pad second from the right. "That's what you want, right?" Of course, there's no way in hell she can hear him, but he's trying to remain calm. Like the arrival of some distant storm, slow and sure, the realization that he might be in a little over his head dawns.

Knees bent, joints readied, thumb hovered over the scroll that perches at his side, he's physically ready for the jump. Mentally and emotionally he would prefer to fling himself off the side of Beacon's cliffs, but as he stares briefly down he determines that maybe that's not the best way to go. "Way too messy," he concludes, laugh quiet.

Squaring himself, he keeps his eyes on the distant moon, crouched as he taps the button that sends him air bound. Flight long and mind antsy, he pulls his sword, enables transformation, and rolls his body forward into a tight, spinning ball propelled by the occasional momentum assist from his scythe. All he wants is to get on the ground and get started with this... what? Attempt at redemption? At self determination? At something that's probably never going to happen?

Truth be told, he wants to believe that this will work, that when faced with the worst he'll have no choice but to reign everything in. But he's unfocused, lost in his head, body on autopilot and brain god knows where. Spaced out and soaring quickly, his landing strategy forgotten, trees abruptly descend in his wake, and he's hissing out every curse known to man on his flight across the woods. Like a saw blade his scythe rips through, wood cracking, splintering. When Qrow does land, it's not pretty; he's not sure exactly how he wound up face-down on a sturdy, fallen oak, but he does know that he's lucky his aura hasn't tanked again. 

(But he feels the force weaken, already strained, not given proper time to recover, and he knows he should've waited, should've done this some other time, _any_ other time.)

What's unlucky is the absence of his scythe, clattered off to god knows where, and the sluggishness he feels when he rights himself. Vision temporarily blurred, he doesn't have time to react when he's suddenly flung skywards once more. Inevitably he crashes to the ground, breathless as he props himself up on his elbows to face a mass of teeth, claws, and spikes.

"Hey there, hot stuff." Now, _this_ helps him focus all his energy, grin only growing as he rolls away from the beowolf's incoming swipe, escape narrow and hurried as he takes to his feet and barrels off to the right. Swiftly, he ducks deeper into dark, close thickets with the hulking grimm close on his tail--close enough to feel warm, hungry _breath_ against his back.

Still he has no clue where his weapon lies, and still his goal remains unaccomplished: _find Raven_ and _be ready._ He's already been turned around in the opposite direction, and he's already so far from prepared that he could laugh.

Shoes brief, heart rapid, he finds himself in a flowery but dark clearing. Thickets give way to smooth, unending grass. He manages precious distance from the beast on his tail, but not for long. That thing's huge and rapid, faster than him, faster than he would like, slowed only by the fact that Qrow's smaller than the trees and _it_ must weave to catch pace.

Fierce red scrutiny finds the single light in the darkness, moonlight that wafts sluggishly through breaks in tall branches. Lush and primarily empty, the field's center holds one vast tree, sturdy, tall. Sure hands find purchase on rough bark, body elastic as he swings, gains speed, then flings his body atop, straddling the leafy structure. He hops up one branch, then another. Distance, that's all he wants, distance so that he can find a path to Raven.

He's high enough now that when the grimm comes barreling forth after successfully clawing through the forest, the only feat manageable proves useless. The beowolf huffs, puffs, growls, wails, swipes at the base of the thick, endless tree, but all to no avail.

No avail. "Sorry, little fella," he chuckles to himself, briefly allowing his eyelids to lapse. "I'm not exactly fond of being eaten alive. 'Course, I bet you're not too into the idea either. We're not so different when you think of it that way, trust me." Two red eyed creatures bathed in darkness, yet able to see survival's path... that's all they are to him. Birds of a feather.

An uncontrollable yawn escapes his chest as he stands, sure feet balanced perfectly on one of many sturdy branches. As the grimm stalks in circles around the tree's trunk, wails merely intensifying in response to Qrow's shenanigans, his eyes flicker upwards. This tree rises significantly higher than all the others, and at this rate, he's better off signaling Raven than going in blind whether that defeats her crazy purposes or not.

His climb's exhausting; his limbs groan as sweat covers his brow, as nimble jumps necessitate rests and as rests are ignored in favor of speed. At the midpoint he pauses, slumps right over on a branch about double his own width and heaves right over the edge, sick with nothing much to come up but stale fluid. There's a brief, humorless chuckle at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he hit the beowolf. His mouth tastes like acid and bile, but he stands anyway, world hazy and too bright, swirling.

He looks up, toward the place where long, finger-like branches break free and scrape the stars. He looks down, toward the wide field of dark grass, and makes up his mind that he's going down, that he's out of here...

Right as tree bark by his face gives way to brisk metal, grazes his cheek and then sparks. To his feet he swiftly hops, then grasps for her wrist, screaming. "Are you insane? You'll kill both of us!"

Beneath their feet, as if on cue, the beowolf howls, long and unending. Dark figures pound through the trees, through the wide open grass, destruction alive as nature scatters in their wake. They gather at the base, at least twenty spiked figures with eyes aflame, and Qrow looks down. Disembodied, he looks down, not really seeing. His heart thumps and staggers and leaps so quickly that he wonders if maybe it'll stop and free him from this.

And then, when he looks up and away from the grimm that swell below, an organized nightmare that hopes only to take down the roots this tree has long nestled, buried, he feels her shove something cold and heavy into his hand. He curls, grasps, but hardly feels, hardly registers the weapon, doesn't think to ask where she found his blade, doesn't care.

Slowly, all show and bravado, she pulls back her endlessly long, fiery blade from the tree's wooden heart. Her wake as she assumes a stance catches leaves ablaze. A couple that scatter into the wind catch fire too, like fireflies, like lost stars.

With an empty smile she suggests, "Let's tussle. You and me against everything that's ever held you back. We'll finish this one way or another."

Fear. That's all he can pick up on. Raven's and his, all wrapped up in void, in sadness, in anger and disappointment.

"Everything, huh?" Crack. Their once-sturdy branch begins to slowly splinter, not from the flames that crawl and lick, but from his own lack of control. "Someone's feeling optimistic for once."

"I am." Her smile sharpens, and she launches. Sword first at her hip, then at him, the blade cleaves smoothly from left to right. There is no dodging, no clever movement that'll stop this, nothing but his own blade held desperately between two uncertain hands.

He leans the entirety of his body weight forward, into her blade, into her, tone hissed through his tremendous effort. "You're gonna melt my sword _and_ me, sis. Turn the dust off!"

Cr...ack. There's a shaking, a groaning as the damage widens. "Not until you _stop it,_ " she snaps, leaning right back into him, meeting him in the middle. Their blades remain locked, bodies shaking with the wind that coaxes the fire behind long locks.

"Stop _what?_ " he quips, but they both know what. The branch, of course. His eyes flutter, his grip hardens, and in his own darkness he attempts to focus beyond the bitter scent of smoke. _Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Just this once._

Air rushes up to meet him, to meet her. Neither are lucky: they land tailbone down on a thinner branch directly below, which snaps. The next branch snaps, the next branch snaps, they're falling and flailing toward the grimm below, and he's too numb to focus until Raven _screams._

He centers himself enough to transform his sword, grip her hand like death, and swing his scythe out. They catch another wide branch with enough momentum that they sway. Forward and back, forward and back, he catches himself laughing, caught in the hysteria of their little pendulum. "You alright, Raven?"

She doesn't answer, but he can see her from the corner of his eye. She's there, at least physically.

"You know," he starts, knees balled as he begins to gather enough speed once more, body swinging. "I think this is enough. Don't you? We're not getting anywhere this way. Kinda wasting time if you ask me."

She still doesn't answer.

"Raven?" He flips, her with him. They land, his scythe in hand, her odachi no longer active with billowing fire.

Gentle but heavy, her hands grab his shoulders and pull, push. "Turn around. Look up."

He does.

There's a thick, black cloud rapidly seeping through the leaves above. His eyes narrow, and then his body goes cold. Frozen, all he can do for a few precious moments is stare, mouth almost slack. "No."

Feathers and beaks, feathers and beaks, swirling and swarming at the top of their tree. He can't imagine how many there are, can't count, can't breathe. "We need to leave," he croaks, desperate.

And then Raven takes silent, steady steps backward, and he thinks she'll just transform. And he's about to join her, about to fly off and abandon this place for good. To never come back, never even spare these woods a glance. To go home. Maybe even to _their_ home, nestled far away from Beacon, away from all this.

Before he sees her lash out, he swears that he feels her, broken and afraid. Afraid for her. Afraid for him. Sharp and sure, her blade comes right down over his head, and it's the last hit. Red fizzles and flickers around his form, vanishes, leaves him wide open, vulnerable. 

And she doesn't stop; she keeps going, slashing, pushing him back. She chases him toward the tree's base, but he's not giving in with so much on the line. Flames lick right below their feet, and at his side crashes a single nevermore, so close that shadowy feathers brush goosebumped skin. The beast flutters, screeches louder than anything he has ever known, vast enough to swallow them both in one sure movement...and still, Raven doesn't falter.

" _Raven,_ " he manages, barely, patience long since eroded as his scythe meets her long blade. He has to spin out, has to knock her back and keep the distance, careful gaze never once leaving the bird that hovers just beside him. "Do you really wanna die here?"

"I don't _care!_ " Over and over, she stabs forth, at his neck, his torso, his face efforts met with the dull thud his scythe's blade makes when he parries. "We died the moment we left for Beacon, Qrow! The moment we decided to put _us_ before _them._ "

" _They were murderers._ And you know it." He risks a swift slice to the left, to the godawful beast that's nothing but a ticking time bomb. Raven misses her swipe to his legs, boy jumping just in time, just as the overgrown nightmare loses a wing and tumbles screaming into the flames below.

"We betrayed them--"

"This was never really about me, was it?" he spits, shouting now, smoke in his lungs that catches him in a cough. "This wasn't about Summer, or about Tai! This is all about _you,_ and how much you can't stand not being in control anymore!" Scythe slowly curling into sword, he charges forward and catches her off-guard, sword knocking her back toward the branch's edge. 

Odachi close to her chest, she guards, unable to knock him off, move him. There's a laugh. "You're the one who's not in control, buddy. I'm just trying to help you out."

"No." Crack. "You're not. You're afraid, Raven. Because everything you've ever known has changed, and you think that if you push hard enough," he catches her blade and knocks it _right_ out of her hands, sailing down, down, "you'll just _put it all back in place,_ right?"

"You--!"

_"We can't fix this."_

Crack.

"You don't know--!"

"We can't _ever_ go back to the way things were, and _you know it,_ don't you?" His mouth's dry yet still thirsts for air, chest heaving. His weapon slowly lowers to his side, then drops, clatters against wood.

Neither of them really registers when she begins crying, but now she's in an outright sob, sound piercing, breaking. It's an angry sound, a bitter sound, and as she moves forward to punch him, to break his jaw, to do something, anything... he catches her, holds her close. His arms wrap tightly, securely around this girl that's fallen apart from all the stress. And he doesn't let go.

Softer this time, he whispers into his sister's soft hair, "You know it, don't you?" Hesitantly, weak arms meet his waist, cling, bury.

_Crack._

From up above, barreling down, limbs of all sizes and shapes clash and clatter. Sharp branches claw at cheeks, arms, exposed skin, and then shove the siblings right off, right as the branch they took purchase on catches flames. They hit, and he lets go to cling to safety, and she bounces with no purchase, and he watches her fall.

And she keeps falling, nothing but a black and red blur. And the world slows. Up above, the dark cloud continues swirling. Abruptly, the cloud crashes down in steady unison, a fierce line of clawed talons and black appendages all heading for that small, soft blur. To these creatures, his sister's nothing more than a speck.

And there is absolutely nothing he can do. Not for her, and not for himself.

"Raven." Her name crosses his lips as he pleads, softly, like a prayer to some god that's neglected them both for their entire lives. Dully, he slides on top of the branch he's grabbed for safety, and laments that he's probably found the very last structure not burning. Laments that he has to watch.

 _Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._ When the first in line manages to catch her in its beak, he cries out, broken and soft, eyes wide as he fruitlessly attempts to focus, to redirect it, to change this ugly fate of theirs through sheer will.

And when he fails, he knows it's all his fault.

There's silence, save for the calls and caws of the monsters that take a sudden swerve, head straight for his face.

He doesn't stop them, doesn't stop watching. A sharp, red gaze reflects his own, opens wide to consume all he knows. From out of the creature's beak comes a peculiar glow, eerie and green and bright, and it's only then that the boy closes his eyes and accepts the end.

As though the forest lives and breathes, every last leaf left alive brightens. Fire brightens, rises, then ceases. Nevermores engulfed in vivid green expand, skin stretched, then burst into nothingness, into shadows and faint traces of blood red. Up the line the explosions follow as the sky rains down feathers and decay, as the magic carries and strikes through every last soulless creature.

The creature in front of him falls last. Through the depths of its stomach stabs silver and gears, tearing the beast asunder. Out crawls a man with white hair, cradling his incapacitated sister in careful arms.

Tears flow. Unthinkingly, numbly, he stands and snatches the girl, holds her close and whispers apologies she can't hear.

"Be careful." Slowly, he tears his eyes off her face, contorted even while unconscious. "She may be injured. We must take her to the hospital immediately."

All Qrow manages to do is nod, because the moment he attempts to speak - to thank his professor for saving them, saving _her_ \- his voice shatters and drops to the floor. Blinking furiously, he attempts to quell his tears. To end them.

But Ozpin softly shakes his head, unease thick in his throat. "Don't," he reassures. "I would cry too, Mister Branwen. This was senseless."

A far-off cry sends sickly chills across his body, and he holds his sister just a bit closer, a bit tighter.

Amber eyes narrow distastefully, flicker to the threat's general direction, and then settle back on the two in front of him. "Quickly. Let's get out of here before we attract any more. And you must understand that we are all owed an explanation for this..." he gestures generally. "Event."

Exhaustion clear on his face, he silently exhales, tension in his shoulders lessening. His stress does not, however, fade. That the children are not corpses, while of grand comfort, hardly ends this ordeal. "But I will not ask that of you immediately. I can only imagine how burdened you must feel."

With equal or greater exhaustion, Qrow musters the strength to nod once more, lips sealed, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

When he spares the girl in his arms one last glance, he realizes once more that he wants to go home, whatever that means. Just not to her home. Not ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello! I'm going to write a drabble separate from this piece to wrap up. Mainly, that will cover what Ozpin and Qrow have to discuss in light of what he and Raven tried to do.
> 
> I'm going to follow this with a series of drabbles about team STRQ, some happier, some sadder, and some OzQrow as Qrow gets older and finds himself. Stay tuned if you wanna.
> 
> This was incredibly hard to write and was meant to be a study in how to write action/movement. Didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, but it's aight for what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment if you're into that.


End file.
